


Thriving on Bare Bones

by 12AngelOfDarkness21



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Amoral Tony, He collects the souls of the dead for her, It's sweet, Merchant of Death Tony, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 05:05:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10914918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/12AngelOfDarkness21/pseuds/12AngelOfDarkness21
Summary: When Tony is labelled the Merchant of Death by the media, he never lets on exactly how accurate the name is.Slight depiction of violence.





	Thriving on Bare Bones

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short piece I wrote cause it is 5am and I can't sleep. Typed on my phone and not beta checked, so any mistakes are my own. 
> 
> Warnings for:  
> \- Slight depiction of blood and violence.  
> \- Mention of death

Tony had many titles, these days. Billionaire. Playboy. Genius. Philanthropist. Iron Man. Hero. Teammate. Some names were truer than others, while some were simply false. Of course, Tony would never let anyone know just how right they were when they labelled him the Merchant of Death. He would let them believe that he was a war profiteer, a man with no heart, no soul, whose hands were covered in blood. A ledger so soaked in red, there was no way for it to be wiped away. In truth, it was so much more than that. In truth, he was Death's favourite Merchant. He was her shoulder to lean on, the person she could turn to, the person she could count on. The person she could love, for he loved her in return. He was the person who collected the souls of the dead for her. Person by person, piece by piece, he collected, for her. It was difficult, sometimes, balancing such a heavy schedule.

A few gifts from his beloved had certainly made it easier, as of late - when you had no need to sleep, you didn't waste time recharging your body, nor your mind. It meant that, by day, Tony was Iron Man, Avenger, hero. By night, he was either in the labs, designing more ways to win the battles he was sent into, or wandering the world. Of course, with someone dying every couple seconds, it was impossible for him to be able to collect them all. He wasn't the only Merchant, for that reason. But he certainly made quite the spectacle when he stretched his legs. It was in the way he would strut. In the way his eyes gleamed. In the way his lips would curl into a satisfied smirk, how he would always inhale as they exhaled, taking their last breath into his lungs. It was in the way he tugged the souls from their bodies - for souls had trouble letting go of the body, hands dripping blood, to press his palm against his chest. How his markings would light up the night, for those who had the ability to /see/. Not many did, but those who did recounted a brilliant, white blue light that lit up the sky. It was in the way he never cried, never mourned. He simply stood up, and moved on to find the next person.

And when, each month, his beloved Death would visit, they would embrace, and he would pepper kisses along the ivory line of her jaw, letting her taste the breath of the dead. He would kiss her softly, and gently, and she would place her hand on his chest - the only one he would let so close to his heart, his own soul - and she would take. Every soul, every drop of blood, every gasp and shudder. He gave it all willingly, offered it to her with his body the temple in which the shrine was held. It made his mind race and his knees week. It never lasted long, unfortunately. She would leave, kissing his lips and traveling back to her own world, her own life. And he would press his fingers to his lips, would memorise the feel of her, would lick his lips, memorise the taste. His eyes would blaze and he would start again. Day after day, month after month. It was hard work. Of course it was. But he didn't just endure it, he lived it, breathed it, thrived on it. Because he was the Merchant of Death, and nothing would stand in his way.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my very first posted piece! If you liked it, let me know, and I might make something more substantial out of this.


End file.
